


Usually Scuffling

by rsadelle



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Brandon didn't kiss Alex, plus one time he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Usually Scuffling

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous request for "ANYTHING AGALLY/PRUST!!! preferably w unconscious yearning/UST on agally's part and mixed feelings on prust's." Title from a description of Alex and Brandon in the 24CH narration.

Brandon gets one elbow over Alex's shoulder, has his other hand fisted in Alex's shirt. It's good practice, for all that Alex isn't an experienced fighter.

Alex pushes at Brandon's shoulder with the hand that's not grabbing at Brandon's shirt. Brandon holds firm and doesn't let Alex push him away, keeps Alex within his reach and ducks Alex's attempt at a blow.

There's chirping that gets them into this, but by this point, they're just grappling silently, huff of their breath the only sound that passes between them.

They're stalemated for a moment, eying each other, waiting to see who's going to make a move.

Brandon breathes in and out, looks at Alex, the momentary stillness and the slight smile on his face. It's one of those moments that make his heart skip a beat. He could press forward, surprise Alex out of the fight. He doesn't think Alex would stop him if he kissed him.

Alex lets go of Brandon's shoulder and goes for his side, and the moment passes.

*

Brandon stalks Alex across his hotel room.

Alex is laughing as he backs away, moves slowly toward the door.

It's going to end in another scuffle, but this part is fun too.

"You think you can get away from me?"

"I'm a lot faster than you," Alex says.

"On the ice maybe," Brandon admits. On the ice, definitely. But they're not on the ice. "Maybe not here." He darts forward and gets Alex pinned against the entryway wall.

Alex laughs and struggles against him.

Alex has an inch and a couple of pounds on him, but Brandon knows how to hold steady, easier when he isn't on the ice and has friction on his side. He keeps Alex against the wall, adjusting his grip, hand on Alex's shoulder, other arm fending off Alex's attempts to push him away.

Alex doesn't stop laughing, and Brandon's grinning the whole time.

Brandon pushes in closer, body to body with Alex. Alex's laughter softens to a smile, and Brandon's eyes dip down toward his lips.

"Prusty, are you coming to dinner?" P.K.'s question is asked as he pushes through the propped open door to Brandon's room.

Brandon pushes Alex against the wall one more time before he steps back. "Yeah, I'm coming. Just had to teach Chucky a lesson first."

*

They win in overtime, which is two points, but not enough of a victory midseason for anyone to organize a real celebration. It's a bunch of joyful shouting in the locker room, interviews and post-game workouts, and then guys going home to their own families or out in small groups.

Brandon catches Alex's elbow in the hall. Neither one of them got a point, but Alex had a good game, and Brandon tells him that.

"Could have been better," Alex says with a shrug.

Brandon throws his arm around Alex's shoulder. "We got the win."

"Yeah," Alex says, and he smiles a little.

Brandon's too familiar with acting natural in the face of someone he has something of a crush on to let his breath catch. He stays close, though, smiling back at Alex. "Let's go get a drink, if your family's not waiting for you."

"No, they went home." Alex puts his arm around Brandon's back. "You have to buy me a drink."

They're so close, and Brandon's smile doesn't feel like it's going anywhere. "Yeah," he says, leaning closer, "I'll buy you a drink."

"You're buying?" Gally throws one arm around Brandon's shoulders and one around Alex's. "I'm in."

*

"Your mom's a great cook," Brandon says.

"I know," Alex says with a grin. "You should feel lucky to get to eat her food."

"I do feel lucky." Brandon pulls on his shoes. "The rest of your family's not so bad either. You I don't know about."

Alex's laugh shakes his whole body. "Better than you."

"Are you so sure about that?" Brandon shrugs into his coat and steps closer to Alex.

"Yes," Alex says. He steps in too. "Much better than you." He licks his lips, and Brandon finds himself following the motion with his eyes.

"Maybe getting close," Brandon says belatedly. "Not better than me."

They're close, just a few inches between them, and Brandon can see Alex's eyes drop to his mouth.

"Here," Anna says, coming into the entryway with a bag.

Brandon takes a step back so he and Alex aren't in each other's space anymore.

"Mom says you should take some leftovers." Anna hands Brandon the bag and stands next to Alex while Brandon says goodnight to them and leaves.

*

They're in the hallway again, before a game. Alex looks serious and determined, and he's pushing back at Brandon.

Brandon's still better at this, gets Alex's shirt over his head.

Alex ducks out of it, keeps pushing at Brandon, one hand fisted in his shirt and one trying to get in a shot at his shoulder or side.

His shirt is still half over his head, and Brandon uses that to his advantage, twisting the cloth to try to pull it farther over, take Alex's sight out of the fight.

Alex twists, though, getting better at this, and Brandon has to readjust his grip, bring his other arm up to fend off Alex's free hand.

There's no winning for Alex, and he drops the fight with a huff of a laugh when Brandon shoves him into the wall and holds him there. He drops his arm too, and the sudden release of tension has Brandon leaning hard into him.

Alex chuckles a little, sound and movement that makes Brandon look at his face, the bright look in his eyes. Brandon leans forward so there's barely any space between them.

There's a familiar sound of equipment, and Brandon turns his head to see the 24CH camera crew coming around the corner. He steps away from Alex, and watches the skin between Alex's shirt and pants disappear as Alex straightens his clothes.

*

Alex peers into the pan on the stove. "You're cooking?"

"Well, you treated me to a home-cooked meal even if you didn't cook it," Brandon says. He pours two glasses of wine and gives one of them to Alex. "Salut."

They toast, and Brandon watches the wine red against Alex's lips.

"Can you cook?" Alex asks. He has a teasing smirk on his face and his fingers gentle around the stem of the wine glass.

"More than you," Brandon says.

Alex laughs, the kind that shakes his shoulders and creases his face with happiness.

Brandon puts his wine glass down on the counter and plucks Alex's out of his hand.

"Hey!"

Brandon ignores the protest and steps close to Alex, as close as they've ever been. "I wanted to make you dinner," he says. He puts his hand on Alex's cheek. "And I want to do this too."

Brandon presses his lips to Alex's lightly, slowly, and for a long minute when Alex presses into it.

"Oh," Alex says.

Brandon's still close, close enough to feel Alex's breath on his lips.

"I didn't know I wanted to do that," Alex says.

Brandon grins at him. "I didn't think so." He kisses Alex again, longer, deeper. "You see, you should always follow my lead."

"No," Alex says with a laugh.

Brandon kisses him before he can finish his protest.


End file.
